The Christmas Countess. Adrienne Basso
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shall find it,” Jane declared confidently.
“No, it will be me,” Lily chimed in with equal bravado.
They all fanned out on the small slope of lawn. Attempting to avoid being too obvious, Rebecca stayed as near to Lily as she dared. She tried not to stare too hard, but was helpless to prevent her gaze from constantly sliding toward the little girl.
It was a heady, dizzy feeling to finally see a face she had imagined countless times. Ever since she had discovered that Lily was alive, Rebecca had tried to envision what this moment would feel like, yet nothing could have prepared her for the riot of emotions that coursed through her.
This beautiful, lively creature was a product of Philip’s love and passion. She had grown inside Rebecca’s body, had been born and then whisked away before Rebecca had ever held her. She had grieved and mourned the loss of the child she was told had died and yet miraculously here she was; hale, hearty and happy. They were virtual strangers and yet somehow connected in the most primal, intimate way imaginable.
Hot tears burned her eyes. Rebecca forced them back, fearing her tears might confuse or distress Lily. She was concentrating so hard on reining in her emotions that she did not hear the carriage rumbling down the broad, gravel-covered pathway, nor notice when it halted near the park bench.
“Papa!”
A horrifying dread clutched Rebecca’s stomach as she turned and watched Lily rush toward the coach. A tall gentleman in a capped greatcoat stepped down, scooped the child in his arms and hugged her tightly.
Oh, please, no. Panic enveloped her. Rebecca cast her eyes frantically about, searching for a route of escape but soon realized there was none.
The moment seemed to stretch into eternity. Fortunately, Lily’s excitement and chattering filled the hollow silence. The two governesses and the other little girl had noticed the earl’s arrival and were making their way up the slope. Rebecca prayed their presence would force the earl to remain in control of a temper she felt certain was ready to explode. After all, he had warned her last night to keep her distance from Lily.
She could feel his gaze resting on her face, yet could only imagine the shock and anger of his expression, for she refused to look back at him. There was a pinch in her heart, a hollow ache in her chest. Not because she had been discovered. The pain radiated through her because she knew her very brief time with her daughter was over.
Rebecca pressed her lips together, uncaring that her dismay must have been keenly apparent. There was no shame in wanting to see her child. He might have warned her to stay away, yet she felt the fault was his, for refusing to allow her contact.
“There she is, Papa. We are trying to help her find her brooch. She lost it here. Will you help too?”
Lord Hampton jerked his head away from Lily’s and glanced in Rebecca’s direction. A small tic began to work in the earl’s left cheek. “A brooch?”
“Yes.” Lily nodded her head earnestly. “It’s gold and shiny, but doesn’t have any diamonds.”
Rebecca raised her chin. The earl glared at her, his eyes narrowing, his nostrils flaring. She noticed his left hand curl protectively on Lily’s back. Her smile felt brittle, but Rebecca managed to keep it on her face. She refused to shrink away from him. Or cringe or cower.
“Mrs. James, kindly escort Lady Lily home immediately.”
The earl bent low, releasing the little girl, and nudging her gently toward her governess. Lily refused to be moved, and instead was standing at his side, tugging on his coat.
“But I want to look for the brooch,” she whined. “If I leave now, then Jane will find it.”
“I doubt that, Puss. There will be no more looking today. ’Tis time for you and Mrs. James to go home.”
Lily’s face darkened. “If we have to go, then I wish to ride in the carriage.”
“Not today, Puss.”
“But, Papa—”
“Mrs. James,” Lord Hampton interrupted, his voice rising fractionally.
“At once, my lord.”
The governess gave a hurried curtsy and pulled her young charge down the path. Rebecca could hear the little girl whining with complaint, but Mrs. James’s steps never faltered. Miss Jane and her governess quickly followed.
And then, as Rebecca feared, the earl turned his attention to her. His expression was black as night, his mouth a grim, set line on his handsome face.
“What in blazes do you think you are doing?”
Rebecca raised a trembling hand to her forehead. She closed her eyes for a heartbeat, trying to regain some control over her thoughts and emotions. “I was merely taking a stroll in the park, my lord,” she replied, her voice sharp with mounting emotion. “’Tis a public place, free to all who wish to enjoy its natural beauty.”
“How did you find her?” he demanded to know.
Rebecca drew a deep breath, steadying herself inside and out. “’Tis a public park,” she repeated stubbornly.
His face muscles had tightened so much that the skin seemed stretched taut over his bones. “Get in the carriage, Miss Tremaine.”
“I prefer to walk. The sun is shining, the cool fresh air invigorating.”
The earl reached out to take her arm, but she jerked free of his grasp.
“Anger is such a mild term for what I am feeling right now, Miss Tremaine. I suggest you tread most carefully or else you shall push me beyond it into a boiling rage.”
Rebecca blinked, moving behind the park bench, as if it could somehow physically protect her from him. “I am not a child, nor a servant that you can order about,” she protested.
The earl’s eyes narrowed into small slits. “If you ever hope to see my daughter again, you will step into that coach. Immediately.”
Helplessly, she stared at him. As threats went, it was a most effective one. Having had but a brief glimpse of Lily made Rebecca’s need to see her daughter even more intense. There was no other choice. Heart and head pounding, Rebecca did as she was bid.
“Explain yourself.”
The coach jerked forward and he saw Miss Tremaine frantically clutch at the seat to keep her balance. Cameron tapped on the roof twice to indicate to his driver that he wished a more sedate pace and the carriage immediately slowed.
The question remained between them, unanswered. Cameron opened his mouth to repeat it, but Miss Tremaine began to speak.
“The waiting has been intolerable. I tried, truly, but could delay no longer. I had to meet her, to see her, to speak with her.”
“To tell her who you are?” he accused.
“No! Never!”
“I don’t believe you.”
“’Tis the truth.” Miss Tremaine stifled a sigh. “I cannot be held responsible if you refuse to believe me.”
“But you can be held accountable for your actions.”
Cameron jammed his gloved fingers through his hair. He was losing control and he knew it. He needed to get his temper in check. Fast. A shouting match with Miss Tremaine would hardly solve anything.
“I did nothing wrong,” she insisted. “I stand behind my behavior, my lord.”
His gaze rested on her hands, clutched tightly about her reticule. “I believe I made myself perfectly clear to you last night. Your actions this morning are proof that you are a false and untrustworthy woman, someone I want my child to avoid. I would be well within my rights to deny you access to Lily. Forever.”
Her breath hitched in alarm